


Switching Places

by Verilidaine



Category: Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Abuse, Canon What Canon, Other, Sticky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 05:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2840267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verilidaine/pseuds/Verilidaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A commissioned work. </p>
<p>Steve has long been infatuated with Starscream.  He knows it's all a fantasy, but it's something nice to indulge in.  When he finds himself in a different universe, things start changing, in a big way, and maybe he can be the hero he always dreamed of being.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Life Gone By

“Heh.  Oh mech, he’s gonna feel that one in the morning.”

“You’d really think he would know better by now.”

A snicker.  “I just like seeing him eat a little of that pride.”

“Stupid Screecher, serves him right.”

“Don’t let Steve hear you.”

“What the Pit do I care if he hears me.”

Steve pretended to be in recharge on the other side of the mess room, listening to the jury-rigged surveillance the Eradicons had set up.  The picture was fuzzy and the audio not much better, with one screen that could flip between the various access points they’d hacked into.  It was a surprise that Soundwave hadn’t taken it down yet, although it was possible that the telepath thought it good that they see the goings-on of the ship.  

“He’ll get all glitchy.”

“Why’s he care, anyway?”

“The frag do you care?   _You’re_ the one that follows Knock Out around like a lonely turbohound.”  That was Costello, a vehicon in his unit, and one that Steve had also shared his last three platoons with.  Steve couldn’t help the small smile through his field.  Costello always had his back.  

“At least Knock Out has some perks.”

Steve brought his visor online and turned his head.  He could hear the roaring and screaming from the tinny little speakers.  The screen itself was blocked by the others watching, but he could picture it well enough.  It wasn’t going to be bad, probably.  Megatron wasn’t in one of the rages that could land Starscream in medbay.  He’d be sore, but he’d be able to patch himself up alone.  

Steve still thought he had better gather up some supplies, since Starscream was notoriously bad at taking care of himself and thinking ahead.  He sat up.

“Ha, look at him take that--”

“ _Shh!_ ”

“No need,” Steve said as he stood.  “I’ll just be going.  Carry on.”

His fellow Vehicons watched him silently.  Most of them were understanding, at least.  They all had their attachments.  Steve wasn’t the only one who’d grown loyal to Starscream, though as far as he knew, he was the only ground vehicle model to do so.  He didn’t care.  

“Hey!”  It was Costello.   He caught up with Steve.  “Don’t worry, doesn’t look bad.”

“Didn’t sound bad,” Steve said.  “I’ve been listening.”

“Yeah, kinda figured.  Hey, ignore those jerks, okay?  B platoon’s just mean to everyone.”

“I know, and I do,” Steve said, and they leaned in together to bump forehelms.  “Just a couple bad circuits.”

“Exactly,” Costello said.  He nuzzled against Steve. “Don’t stay out too late.”

“I won’t be late for rounds,” Steve promised before leaving.  

His first stop was to the lower barracks that were technically his quarters, as much as any of the Eradicon forces actually used their assigned bunks.  Most of them recharged in the common rooms instead of the cramped boxy spaces with berths stacked on top of each other.  The common rooms were spacious, and while the furniture wasn’t comfortable, it wasn’t any less comfortable than the barracks and there was plenty of it for recharging, resting, relaxing, cuddling, interfacing.  Whatever everyone felt like.  

Most used their assigned barracks for storage and privacy, for the rare times that privacy was wanted.  Valuables to an Eradicon were things like extra rations and medical supplies, which Steve always tried to keep extras of.  They were stolen regularly, of course, but usually one of the stashes could still be found and if not, it only took checking around the other bunks to find more.  

A welder, nanite-rich paste, and fine mesh all went into his subspace, along with a few extra cubes, and then Steve made his way to the upper decks where the beating had taken place.  He was sure it was over by now, but if he was lucky…

“You!  Drone,” came the deep, gravely voice.  “Give me your supplies.”

Starscream probably thought that most of the Eradicons carried extra medical supplies around with them.  Steve was very good at making himself available when they were needed, and he didn’t think any of the officers could tell the Eradicons apart from each other.  It generally worked to their benefit, but there were moments when he wished Starscream knew who it was who always came to help.  

Those moments were invariably followed by guilt that he would wish to be different from his fellows.  His unit, his platoon, all of the Eradicons, were his family.  He wasn’t so infatuated with Starscream as to believe it would ever be  _real_ ...

But it was nice to have something to make his spark flutter.  

Steve felt Starscream’s sharp glare on him.  “Yes, Lord Starscream,” he said, and pulled them out.  “Do you require assistance?”

Starscream snatched the supplies and waved him away.  

Steve backed off but lingered close enough to keep watch.  Starscream ignored him, as he ignored any Eradicon he didn’t have a need for, and Steve was grateful for it.  Something changed in the volatile Seeker in these moments, the severity melted away and there was a sadness that took over.  It gave Steve hope that there was more there, someone in there to reach.

In these moments, Starscream looked lonely.

Steve left.  The jet would be fine on his own.  He’d patched his own wounds up often enough, and the beating was barely even visible this time.   Staying would just cause him more frustration.

He made himself scarce after that, skulking the hallways, keeping track of Starscream’s location, ensuring that the Commander could still walk.  Starscream never noticed that he was being followed, and then to Steve’s delight, made his way towards his reclaimed lab.

It hadn’t been built as a lab, but Starscream used the abandoned storage room as one, to tinker around in when he had the time or needed the distraction.  Steve liked helping him, but he had to be at the right place at the right time.   He paced back and forth in front of the door once Starscream was inside, trying to time his passings like a regular patrol.  

Finally, Starscream poked his head out the door and saw him.  Steve could see the fresh welding marks on his plating, clearly not Knock Out’s precise work.  His wings were scratched, one of them was hanging a little low.  The metal on the side of his face was badly scraped, and claw marks encircled his hips.  “You there, drone!  I need a pair of hands, come here.”

Steve brightened and hurried inside.  “Is it the same work as yesterday, Commander?”

“Ah, you again?” Starscream asked distractedly.  “What was it, ST-19?”

“Yes, Commander,” Steve said.  

“Well good, then I don’t need to explain everything,” Starscream said.  “It’s the same as yesterday.”

“Monitor the sample temperatures?” Steve asked, to be sure.

Starscream nodded and began typing commands into the console.

A few kliks passed in silence.

“What are you always doing around here, anyway?” Starscream asked.  

“I … patrol near here,” Steve said.  

“Surely not at different times every orn,” Starscream said, raising an optic ridge at him.

“I like working with you,” Steve admitted.  “I make sure to stay close.”

Starscream’s wings lifted in surprise.  “...Really,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” Steve said, ducking his head.  “I hope that’s alright, sir.  Er, Commander.”

Starscream waved a distracted hand at him.  “Sir is fine.  And yes, that’s alright.”

Steve nodded, relieved.  “Thank you, sir.”

“Just don’t let the temperatures get too high, or this will be the end of it,” Starscream warned him.

“I won’t, sir,” Steve promised, and settled into a happy silence as they worked.  He watched Starscream when he could.  This was when the Seeker’s true self really came out.  As his frame relaxed, everything became graceful.  Claws that spent most of their time clenched in frustration or striking out in anger turned into the most delicate of tools.  His wings always dipped, swaying gently in an even rhythm, and his optics…

Well, Steve loved his optics.  The bright, rich red that darted about as Starscream worked, intense in their focus.  He looked natural in this environment, unlike everywhere else when he was tense and on guard.  Steve didn’t know much about Starscream’s past, but he wondered what kind of career had been ended by the war.  There were rumors about the Seeker and Sentinel Prime, but Steve tried not to listen to those.  

“What are you synthesizing?” he asked after a while.

Starscream started, then looked up, almost like he wasn’t sure Steve had even said anything.  “What?”

“I just wondered what this is, that you're making,” Steve said apologetically.  “I’m sorry, Commander, I didn’t mean to disrupt your concentration.”

“Oh.”  Starscream waved aimlessly.  “This planet has unacceptably low temperatures combined with high humidity.  It creates problems for the fliers.”

“With the icing,” Steve said.

“Exactly,” Starscream murmured as he dipped a claw into one of the samples.  “I need something safe to apply to plating that will satisfactorily prevent the buildup, without needing to be constantly reapplied.”

“They’re lucky to have you,” Steve said.

Starscream’s optics narrowed in confusion and he glanced over.  “What?”

“The fliers, sir,” Steve said.  “I mean they’re lucky to have you as a Commander, with the care you take.”

“Ah.”  Starscream shrugged.  “Yes, I suppose they are.”

Steve’s visor brightened happily for a moment before he refocused on his work.

* * *

 

“He knows my serial,” Steve said dreamily later that night.  His head was in Costello’s lap, and he was snuggled in for the off shift with the rest of his platoon.  Other trios and pairs were interfacing around the cramped but cozy common room, and ozone was thick in the air around them.  Off shifts were what most vehicons lived for, the time spent with their fellows, unwinding from the long duty shifts.

Costello snickered.  “I’m happy you’re happy.”

“You don’t understand, he remembered it!”  Steve himself could barely believe it, much less make someone do so.  

“I know,” Costello said.  “Like I said.  You know I think he’s a jerk.”

“Well he is a jerk,” Steve said.  “But … he’s got a better side than that, too.  Megatron just doesn’t let him show it.  Or, beats it out of him.”

“I think it was beaten out of him a long time ago,” Costello said.

“Not all of it,” Steve said.

“Don’t know why you’d want to beat your helm against trying to dig it out, but I’m glad he knows your serial,” Costello said.  “I wouldn’t have expected it.”

“Yeah,” Steve said happily.  “I did, I think.  I knew it was in him.”  He felt Costello’s hand come to rest against his helm and start petting.  He hummed happily and reached up, going for the hardline ports in Costello’s chassis.  His fellow vehicon purred and spiraled the ports open.

“Hey, ‘Tello.”  A second pair of hands reached around.  

“Hey Shakes,” Costello said, tilting his head back.  “Joinin’ in?”

“Yeah, thought I would,” Shakes said, looking down at Steve right as Berry crawled forward.  “Heard you had a good day.”

“Yeah!” Steve said brightly, then laughed embarrassedly when most of his platoon gave a small cheer for him.  Life aboard the Nemesis might be creating friction and stress between their ranks, but platoons, and especially units, stuck together.  Even if they all thought he was ridiculous, they were going to be happy that he was happy.

“Wanna celebrate?” Shakes asked while Berry moved between Steve’s legs and pushed them open.

“Pit yes,” Steve said as Costello’s fingers circled his ports, then clicked a cable into place when they opened.  Steve reached up to offer the connection in return.  Charge tickled across it and Costello giggled at the feeling, then sighed happily as Shakes reached down to his interface panel and teased at it.

Berry began doing the same for Steve, who pulled his legs up and back.  Berry leaned in and nuzzled his faceplate against the panel before drawing it away to reveal the softer mesh hidden beneath.   Steve gave a soft moan as his panel snapped open and the warm mesh pressed against the sensitive open circuits there.

He reached up to join Shakes in petting Costello’s panel until it slid away and they could both get their fingers worked into the circuitry there.  It wasn’t the full equipment setup that the non-mass-produced mecha had, but rather the supports systems that would have been wired into such a setup had it ever been installed.

Not a single Eradicon minded, though, because the dense net of exposed wires and sensory cables were just as much fun to play with.  

Berry gave a pleased hum when Steve’s frame jerked up against his mesh.  Against him, Costello was moaning and Shakes was lowering him down, climbing over him to press their mesh together while he and Steve both wriggled their fingers around in the exposed wiring.  Shakes hummed happily at the way Costello squirmed and Steve could feel every moment of it over their hardline.  He tweaked a deep wire in Costello’s array.

Costello jumped and then turned his head to press his mesh against Steve’s, setting off a series of gentle sparks between the soft metal linings.  

Berry’s fingers joined his mesh on Steve’s panel and for a moment, Steve found himself imagining Starscream’s mouth--an actual  _mouth_ \--against his panel instead.  He wondered how it would feel.  But then Berry twitched his fingers up and Steve shouted, hips thrusting up as he overloaded.  

Static overtook his frame as charge was dispelled, dancing over every connection point into the other three.  Costello moaned and a moment later, Shakes had his array open and was grinding it against the other Vehicon’s.  

Steve slumped back and tugged Berry up over him, rolling his frame to ask for the same thing.  Berry eagerly complied and their arrays came flush, wires meshing together as they kissed.  

Costello’s hand wrapped around Steve’s while he and Shakes continued to rock, and Steve purred happily.  

* * *

 

“ _Steve!_ ”

Steve jumped and turned around at the hissed whisper, seeing Berry there, helm poked around the corner.

“What are you doing here?” he whispered back.  “Is something--”

“I have to get back to my watch, but I just wanted to tell you before you hear from someone else,” Berry said, keeping his voice low as he glanced around.  “Starscream went out with Airachnid and didn’t come back.  She said she left him with the Autobots as a prisoner.”

“ _What?_ ” Steve hissed, whirling around, but a snapping reprimand of his serial from the watch officer had him straightening again.

“Sorry,” Berry whispered, ducked back around the corner again.  “Thought you should know.”

Steve stared straight ahead, not even seeing the weapons that he was supposed to be guarding.  Starscream was an Autobot captive?  They wouldn’t kill him, surely?  They never killed anyone except Eradicons, and Starscream was far too important as a captive.  He knew things.  He could create equipment for them if they forced him.  

No, no they wouldn’t kill him.  He would be okay.  Megatron had to see that leaving Starscream with the Autobots was an awful idea, and they would rescue him.  Steve would make sure to be assigned to that unit and he would be there to help save him--

“Something interesting you, ST-19?” the watch officer asked and Steve startled, realizing suddenly that the other Eradicon was right in front of him.

“No, sir,” he said, then added, “Sorry, sir.”

“Focus on your watch,” the officer said before strolling on.

Steve heaved a sigh and refocused on the weapons, trying to keep his mind off Starscream.

 

* * *

 

As soon as his shift was over, Steve ran to the common room that his platoon used.  Most of them were already there, and his unit was waiting for him.

“What happened?” Steve blurted as he went to them.

“I was on watch in the control room,” Berry said, as Costello leaned their helms together.  “Airachnid came back and said that Starscream was taken captive by the Autobots while they were looking for some weapon.  Megatron was  _furious_ .”

“He...he was?” Steve asked.

Berry nodded.  “He said Starscream knew too much and would tell the Autobots everything.”

“He wouldn’t!” Steve said, then drooped when Shakes hugged him.  “He might.”

“But Megatron sent some fliers out to check on it,” Berry offered.  “So maybe they’ll get him out.  The fliers like him.”

“Yeah,” Steve said glumly, kicking at the floor.

“Come on,” Costello said, taking his hand.  “Come recharge.”

Steve allowed them to lead him over to an oversized lounge and he sank down with them, staring at the ceiling and worrying.

* * *

 

Steve sat in his quarters, watching the recording that Costello had bribed a security officer for.  It was the fliers who’d gone to search for Starscream, and none of the efforts had produced any evidence that the seeker was with the Autobots.  They still didn’t know where their base was, but global Autobot activity had barely changed and none of them were talking about it.  Their full report had been extensive and involved readings taken through the Autobots’ ground bridges, none of which had indicated Starscream’s presence.

“How you doing?” Costello asked as he peeked in.

Steve sighed.  “I’m fine,” he said, and stood up.  “I’m going to find him.”

“Steve…”

“I am,” Steve insisted.  “I know I can.”

“If you even go off the ship without an assignment you’ll get decommissioned,” Costello said, shifting side to side.  “And if you do…”

“...Oh,” Steve said, and hung his head.  “So does my unit.”

“Yeah,” Costello said.  “But hey, listen, we all want to help.  What can we do?”

Steve sighed and looked at his palms, fingers curled in slightly.  “Starscream’s smart...he’ll be okay.  He just needs help.  If he can’t get energon on his own he’ll need some.  He’ll check here first.  If I leave it somewhere easy for him to find…”

“He’ll know that someone is leaving them for him,” Costello said.  “And when he comes back he’ll know someone was looking out for him.”

Steve nodded eagerly and immediately started making plans.

* * *

 

Steve was up on the roof of the Nemesis, checking one of the bundles that he’d left tied over the edge of the ship with energon and medical equipment tucked into it.  He usually left them off the side of the ship and found them taken later, sometimes he stashed them on the ground when he was down for a mission and could get away.  Whenever he could, he broke away to look for Starscream wherever he could think of.  He never found him, of course, but Steve was never going to stop.  They always disappeared, but there was no way to know who was taking them.  Steve kept watch when he could, hoping to see Starscream and go with him.  He wanted to make sure he was safe.

He had just finished packing the little bundle when the commotion started from behind.  Steve stood, half expecting--half hoping--that it would be Starscream’s return with Megatron chasing him through the Nemesis to the roof.  Steve would stand up to Megatron, giving Starscream time to escape, and maybe take him with.  He would prove his devotion to the true commander of the Decepticon army.  He--

The Autobot that appeared out of nowhere definitely  _wasn’t_ Starscream, and Steve had to dive out of the way.  The shouted command from behind to pursue had him on his pedes again and he was chasing after, being joined by fellow Eradicons and Vehicons.  

Everything moved so fast after that.  One moment the Autobot was there, the next he was gone and Steve found himself running forward in disbelief that anyone would actually jump that distance.  He was sure that Autobot couldn’t fly, but … if it could, he wanted to see how.  

Before he could get a good look, he heard Megatron’s roar, and then the ship was no longer beneath his pedes.  

For a dim, fleeting moment he imagined Starscream flying in to save him and taking him away…

But then the ground was hurtling up and Steve realized he would never see Starscream ever again.  


	2. Life Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve wakes up in an entirely new world.

Steve onlined his optics.  Blue sky.  Audial systems came on a moment later.  Gunfire.  So he survived, somehow.  Had he hit foliage?  His readings had indicated rock and barren land.  How had the Autobot survived and why was he making a stand?  Unless the other Autobots had joined him?

He leaped upright, determined to do what he could to help, and the shock of what he saw almost made him miss the fact that his HUD wasn’t showing any damages from the fall.  He had time for a double take at it before he had to duck down to avoid being shot.  The mech who’d shot at him was red and starting to take aim again when another one came over and yelled something at him in a language that Steve didn’t understand.  The red one looked angry, but he disengaged and returned fire in a different direction.  

The one who’d stopped the shooting straightened and regarded Steve with a calm expression and Steve’s spark caught up in his chest with a strange twinge.  He knew that voice and that look.  That was Optimus Prime.  But the language he was speaking sounded completely foreign, and his frame was so boxy.  And _small_.  What had happened here?

Then a different voice roared behind him and Steve snapped to attention, spinning around to see--

Megatron.  But like the Prime, small and strange and boxy and yelling at him with words that Steve couldn’t understand.  Had his processors been damaged in the fall?

A white, red and blue flier came in for a landing right next to him and pointed at Steve, rattling off something that made Megatron--the mech who sounded just like Megatron--growl back.  Steve stared.  He had to be trapped in a massive glitch hallucination.  He recognized the cant of those wings and the way Megatron responded--

He shook his head.  No.  He was glitching, drugged up on Knock Out’s table.  That had to be the reason for all of this.  Nothing made sense.  

The ground next to him exploded and Steve looked back to see more small, boxy mechs running at them.  Megatron yelled again and suddenly everyone behind him was moving in a retreat.  Steve figured he might as well follow.  They were clearly Decepticons, and he wasn’t interested in finding out what his glitching processors would create for Autobot torture.  It might be a massive hallucination, but everything definitely _felt_ real.  

He started to follow and saw Megatron watching him.  Then the mech’s gaze shifted left, and focused sharply.  

Steve whirled around in time to see a pair of Autobot cars rushing them.  The red one transformed into a roll and came up with his pistol trained on Megatron, and without thinking, Steve fired before he could pull off the shot.  

He hit the Autobot square in the chest, and the mech went down immediately, smoke coming from his chassis.  The other car immediately skidded to a halt and raced back, breaking off what very well could have been a successful pursuit.  

Steve stared at the smoking car, shocked.  Had he been already injured?  Why was he rushing if he couldn’t handle a shot like that?  Steve had expected to knock him off balance, maybe slow him down, not _this_.   

He turned around and Megatron was staring at him with a rapturous expression.  Optics bright, mouth opened in shock.  Then he started gesturing for Steve to follow them as they all headed into the retreat.

Steve did, only turning around once when they were nearly out of sight to see the yellow Autobot kneeling next to the red one while a figure that looked suspiciously like the Autobots’ medic hurried forward, and then he transformed and raced along with the rest of the fleeing mecha.  

 

* * *

 

When they stopped at the edge of an ocean, Steve transformed up with the rest of them, lingering back uncertainly as he looked around.  Where were they going from here?

The flight frames kept going above them, heading out of sight, and then suddenly, Megatron disappeared.

Steve jerked back in shock, then his helm whipped around as mecha started to disappear all around him.  And then a purple and black flight frame appeared in front of him and grabbed his wrist and he felt himself being squeezed as the shoreline disappeared into a haze.  

Then the world came into clarity again and Steve took a dizzy sideways step before flopping down onto his aft.  Now mecha were appearing all around and he felt a hand patting his back and he looked up to see Megatron.  

The warlord was talking to him, but the glyphs were strange and blocky, just like their frames.  Steve stared at him.  He looked delighted, whatever he was saying.

The red and white flier came in next to him, looking down at him with a frown.  He was speaking now, the noise grating and shrill, pointing at Steve’s chest.

Megatron laughed and shook his head and sneered something, and the flier snarled and stalked away.  

Megatron looked back at Steve and gestured for him to follow.  Another mech joined them, with a visor and mask just like Steve had, and a strange contraption on his chest.  When he spoke, the sounds were flat, but as much as he looked like a drone, Megatron was nodding and listening.  

~Hello,~ said a voice, and Steve jerked back, looking around wildly.  Was that in--

The visored mech waved, catching his attention.  

~Yes, hello,~ the voice said again.  ~I have evaluated our common language as Human.  Why do you wear the Decepticon insignia?~

“I…” Steve said, bewildered.  A twinge in his processors.  Instruction to _think_ the response?  ~...I am a Decepticon.  I serve Lord Megatron.~

More pressure in his processors and Steve felt like his files were all being flipped through.  His life was being played, file by file, and he could feel the confusion from the presence in his mind before it pulled away.

The visored mech started speaking to Megatron, who frowned as he listened, then shrugged and waved a hand at him before walking away.  

~You are a powerful weapon for Lord Megatron,~ the voice said.  ~I am Soundwave.  I will teach you our language.  You will serve Lord Megatron.~

Steve stared, but nodded.  He didn’t know what else to do.  Play along with the glitch?  No reason not to.  Maybe he was still on the ground sizzling his way to deactivation and this was how his processors were choosing to compensate with the trauma of his final moments.  A fantasy, of sorts.

But if this was a fantasy, why was he following Megatron and Soundwave around through a bizarre world, instead of relaxing with his unit, or maybe even putting himself between Megatron and Starscream and proving to the seeker how much he cared?  There were probably dozens of ways Steve would rather experience his last moments than this.  

Ah, well.  The dying couldn’t be choosy, he supposed.  At least he could be useful in his fantasy.

 

* * *

 

He was taken through the base that he now suspected was deep underwater.  None of the Decepticons were aqua frames, so what was it doing down here?  There were better ways to hide a base than to make it completely inaccessible except by … however it was they’d gotten here.  Soundwave was droning on in English about rules and regulations, and how Steve should expect to be of great use to the Decepticon cause, but he really just couldn’t wrap his head around the entire thing.  He kept waiting for everything to become too ridiculous for his processors to handle, was certain that at any moment would come deactivation or awareness…

“These: will be your quarters,” Soundwave said, opening a door.  

Steve looked into an empty box with a slab for a berth.  He recoiled from it.  

“They: are comparable to others in the Decepticon army,” Soundwave said.  “Steve: will learn to accept them.”

Steve stepped slowly inside, looking around.  Empty. He’d never once recharged in a desolate place like this, not even the first night he’d been online.  He reached out and touched the wall.  It was cold.  He snatched his fingers away and curled them, then looked at the empty berth.  No pillows, not even a contoured frame for more comfort.  Flat and desolate.  Lonely.

Doubt started to creep around him, laced with fear.  Would he have ever imagined a place like this?  Even in dreams, he was surrounded by his fellow Vehicons, his unit.  It didn’t make any sense.  His whole life he’d slept cuddled up with the rest of his unit or platoon, whoever they were at the time.  Warmth and community, support through everything.

Was he never going to see them again?  Costello and Shakes and Berry?

...Was this real?

~This is real,~ Soundwave said inside his head.  ~Your appearance coincided with recorded temporal fluctuations.~

“Oh,” Steve said, and the energon in his tanks felt like it turned to sludge.

Trapped here, alone.

Probably forever.  

He’d never see his unit again, or curl up with them at the end of a long day.  Never feel his mesh pressed against Costello’s, never have those fields surrounding him with support.  He would recharge alone in this lonely box, never learning what happened to Starscream, never being able to prove his long-held and carefully crafted loyalty.  

~Loyalty to Starscream is forbidden,~ Soundwave said sharply.  

Steve’s helm jerked around.  “Starscream?” he asked.  “Starscream is--”

The red and white jet filled his mind.

Steve recoiled, and then shock settled into a heavy despair.  That creature was nothing like Starscream.  The sleek grace, the soothing voice, all gone.  Replaced by that screechy, abrasive mess.

“Steve: will remain here until he is summoned,” Soundwave said.  “In the meantime: he should review these files and prepare himself for the service of Lord Megatron.  Lessons: will begin tomorrow.  Do: have some material prepared by then to demonstrate how you may be your most useful.”  He backed up and the door closed.  

Steve started to follow, but the door wouldn’t open to him.  He gave a cry of dismay and turned around to look at his box, then did what so many of his kind had learned to do: accepted the situation that his commanders had given him and settled in to wait.


End file.
